Desires
by AMillionRegrets
Summary: Dan Howell and Phil Lester completely and utterly hate each other. They fight every time they meet and all of their friends are tired of it. But one day, they stumble through a secret passage in an old house and wake up in a strange island which seems to be uninhabited by other intelligent life forms. They only have each other and no way to escape.


The cigarette touched Phil's chapped lips and he inhaled deeply, taking a long drag before releasing it all into the air. Wisps of grey, silver smoke curled and swirled in front of him before vanishing into the air. The smell hung in the thick atmosphere, settled on the furniture, wrapped around his body like a warm blanket and he immediately relaxed, leaning back on the couch. He took another drag, long and slow, sucking as much smoke as he could into his lungs, and exhaled, watching with bored blue eyes as it mingled with the air and disappeared again.

The room was packed with people Phil barely recognized, laughing, talking, whispering amongst each other. They were all having fun in one way or another, playing stupid party games or engaging in activities that Phil had no desire to partake in. Most, if not all, of them looked happy, smiling widely and displaying perfect white teeth.

Something squeezed in Phil's chest and he released more smoke into the air, watching it with a pained expression on his face and then looking away to stare up at the ceiling instead.

Idle, mindless chatter and raucous laughter rang in his ears, the loud, obnoxious music roared in his mind, the walls were too bland and the ceiling seemed to be coming closer and closer the more he looked at it.

Abruptly, he looked away, frantic eyes searching desperately for something, anything to look at, anything that didn't make his lungs squeeze and his throat constrict.

Another shaky inhalation and more smoke flowed out of his mouth, silvery clouds rising upwards and hanging in the air. It made him feel a tiny bit relaxed but not enough to calm his nerves. Everywhere he looked, people were laughing, singing, dancing and there he was, sat all alone, with no company, no friends, no one.

More smoke twirled in the air, grey clouds forming and dying in front of his eyes.

Suddenly, Phil felt extremely alone. Alone, empty, dead. The loud, noisy music thrummed through his veins, the alcohol in his blood made him dizzy, drowsy and sick. He looked around and all he saw was couples kissing against the walls and friends laughing together, and suddenly the cigarette wasn't enough. The cloud of smoke wasn't enough. The alcohol in his blood wasn't enough.

Nothing was ever enough.

Loneliness was something Phil felt often, devouring his confidence and optimism. It was not like he didn't have any friends, he did. He had many friends. It was not like he didn't have loving parents, he did. It was not like he had nobody, he did. He had loyal friends and a loving family. But sometimes he just couldn't help but crave for something more, something to call his and his alone.

Phil sighed and huffed, crushing the cigarette on the ash tray and standing up. He immediately stumbled and swayed on his feet, a wave of dizziness hitting him out of nowhere. He grabbed blindly for the couch and leaned against it, breathing deeply and releasing the residual smoke from his lungs.

Phil looked up and locked eyes with Louise across the room. She gave him a knowing sad smile, asking unknown questions with her eyes. Phil sighed deeply and faked a smile, waving absently and turning away. Sometimes he just didn't like the way his friends looked at him. He was fine. He didn't need a babysitter. He was a twenty four year old man, not a child.

Phil pushed through the crowd of drunken people, stumbling his way towards the bathroom. His focus was blurry even through his glasses and he kept staggering and bumping into people, mumbling half hearted and pointless apologies on the way.

By the time, he reached the bathroom, he was heaving and panting, stomach lurching uncomfortably. He stood there, leaning against the wall for several minutes, catching his breath, then he turned around and pushed the door open, teetering inside.

"Oh, fuck!" someone exclaimed and Phil blinked repeatedly, clearing his vision and trying to focus. Once his vision cleared though, he immediately wished it hadn't. Pure, unadulterated rage shook his very core and he glared at the occupants of the room, resisting the intolerable urge to vomit at the sight in front of him.

It was none other than the notorious Dan Howell, standing on his knees with a cock in his mouth.

Anger and hatred mingled and exploded in his stomach and suddenly, he wished he had a cigarette with him so he could take a long drag and forget all about this.

Why did this always happen to him?

The first time he had seen Dan Howell was at a party very similar to this three years ago, in this exact same position, with that same fucking thing in his mouth. The guy was a horny piece of shit and every single time, every single damn time, Phil catches him in this exact same position.

For some reason, it really irritated Phil and he hated Dan right off the bat. From that moment on, they had always avoided each other, but Phil's displeasure must have shown on his face because Dan Howell hated him right back. It was in his every gaze, every glare, every look that pierced into Phil's heart, the hatred, the rivalry. It was all a game, a competition, and Phil had no idea why he was even playing.

In the three years that Phil had known Dan Howell, he had never had a decent conversation with him, it was either fake civility or punches and kicks that hurt for months.

Nevertheless, they were both YouTubers with mutual friends and not spending time with him was inevitable, thus, things like this happened more often than not.

"What the fuck, Lester?" Dan snapped, "Get the fuck out."

Phil glared at him, gritting his teeth. He really was not in the mood to fight but Dan Howell always seemed to rile him up without even trying. Phil's blood sizzled just by looking at his stupid face.

"I said get out. Is that too hard to comprehend for your pea sized brain?" Dan grumbled, trying to pull the guy's cock back into his mouth, but the guy stepped back with wide eyes and quickly pulled his pants up, looking mortified as he fastened his belt in a rush.

"There's this thing called a private bedroom, you fucking uncultured piece of shit," Phil snapped, "This bathroom is for everyone. If you don't want people to walk in then maybe you should try doing this in the upstairs bedroom once in a while."

The poor guy standing awkwardly next to Dan coughed and cleared his throat. "Um, I'll see you l-later," he stuttered before glancing at Phil in fear and quickly rushing out of the room.

"What? Wait, no!" Dan moaned, "Hey, come back!"

He didn't come back and for some reason, Phil felt relieved and he smirked at Dan, "Thank god."

Dan glared at him, "Do you even realize what you just did, you bastard? It took me an hour, thirteen minutes and eight seconds to convince that guy to let me suck him off and all my efforts just went down the drain because of you. You just ruined my whole fucking night!"

Rage bubbled up his chest and he gritted his teeth. "Shut the fuck up. I don't need to know the details."

"What? Afraid of cock?" Dan mocked, "What are you? Four?"

That was it. Phil really was not in the mood to argue or fight as usually most of their fights get physical and ends in one or both of them getting badly injured. But Dan Howell was like gasoline against his burning skin and no matter how tired or sad he was, Dan always made his heartbeat quicken, his jaw clench and his eyes burn with fury. It was like a matchstick, every time Dan was around, something sparked inside him, making him momentarily forget all about his lonely feelings. The hatred inside him, passionate and fierce, turned into wild fire in his heart at the sight of him.

Phil closed the gap between them in two quick strides and before Dan could open his stupid, sarcastic and snarky mouth, Phil had him pinned against the wall, his breathing heavy and their noses almost touching as he glared at Dan.

"I told you to shut up, didn't I?" Phil growled and it might be his imagination but he felt Dan shiver. "Do you not understand English or am I somehow speaking in Chinese without knowing?"

"Get your filthy hands off me," Dan snapped, "I'm delicate."

"Why do you insist on sucking cocks in public toilets?" Phil asked angrily, "We all know you're gay and a fucking whore, Daniel. You don't have to shove it down our throats every single damn time."

Dan's eyes immediately hardened and he clenched his jaw, but Phil simply glared at him one more time and released him, turning around and deciding to just walk away. This guy was clearly not worth his time. No matter how much Phil hated him, Dan was nothing but a stupid slut and Phil was just wasting his time on him.

The empty feelings were slowly creeping back into his veins and if he didn't leave now, this would turn into a huge fight. He could already feel it, thrumming through his veins, some intense, fierce, ferocious emotion that made his heart pound and his fists clench into tight fists.

He saw it in Dan's eyes, dangerous hatred and anger twirling inside those brown orbs. He saw it in the way the veins on his neck stood out, pulsing against his milky white skin. Phil saw it in the clench of his jaw, in the small sound his gritting teeth made, in his heated glare and the furrow of his eyebrows.

Dan grabbed the collar of Phil's shirt before he could move and slammed him back against the wall, his fist tightening around Phil's throat as he leaned in so close, Phil could feel his breaths brushing against his cheeks and ghosting over his lips, warm and soft.

Suddenly Phil wasn't so empty anymore. The world disappeared around him and all he could see, feel, touch was his rival, his arch enemy, the person he hated the most but also the only person who could make him feel alive when everything inside him was dead. Dan made him feel so alive and free, the kind of of freedom that settled deep down in his bones and made every single cell in his body alert and active.

"What did you just call me, Lester?" Dan growled angrily, "Call me that one more time, I'll . . . " he trailed off, tightening his fist around Phil's throat. Phil gasped but Dan didn't stop.

Dan was merciless. Dan was evil. Dan was selfish and Phil loved riling him up, making him angry, seeing that vein in his neck pulse and watching the angry flush creeping up his neck.

It was the only time, Phil felt something other than numbness.

Phil gasped for breath as Dan squeezed his neck like a sponge, his eyes filled with pure hatred. Phil's feet hovered over the floor as he struggled for air, his lungs squeezed and burned and he choked, fingernails scratching Dan's arms, digging into his flesh as he desperately tried to get some oxygen into his lungs. Black spots danced around his vision and he was about to just close his eyes and die but before that, Dan released him with a warning glare.

Phil coughed and slid to the floor, rubbing his neck and gasping for breath. Dan smirked down at him and turned to leave, but Phil couldn't let him go. He had forgotten how this felt, how much he needed this. It was like a drug, fighting with Dan Howell, addictive and unhealthy but Phil always came back for more.

"W-what?" Phil coughed and heaved, "That's all you can do?"

"Dan froze and then he turned around, eyes as cold and hard as a frozen lake in winter. "You never learn, do you?"

"And neither do you," Phil smirked breathlessly, coughing into his hands, "Does your mom know? That you're a dirty cocksucker? I bet she'll be proud to find out that her son is a cock sucking whore."

Dan's jaw was clenched and his hands balled into fists as he glared at Phil but there was something in his eyes, something that suggested that he was hurt. Scared and hurt. Phil felt immensely satisfied. It was a well known fact that Dan's family didn't approve of his homosexual lifestyle. It was a huge scandal almost a year ago when Dan came out on YouTube, his mother made a video disowning her own son and going as far as to say that Dan Howell was disgusting and a disgrace to humanity as a whole. Phil knew bringing it up was a low blow but he didn't care. For once, he was feeling alive and free. Nothing was going to stop him.

"It's probably your career, isn't it? Professional cocksucker," Phil chuckled humorlessly, "If you don't mind me asking, how much do you earn a month? Do they even give you money or do you just beg them to fuck you again as payment?"

Dan's eyes flashed with anger and before Phil could even blink, Dan lunged at him, his closed fist colliding with Phil's jaw. Phil's glasses clattered to the floor and his neck twisted due to the force of the punch. A splatter of blood from Phil's broken nose stained the wall and Dan grabbed the collar of his shirt, slamming his head hard against the wall. Phil cried out in pain, his eyes squeezed shut as a wave of nausea hit him. His stomach churned and it took a while for him to realize that Dan had just kicked him in the stomach, repeatedly. Phil spat blood onto the floor, bright red splashing the dirty tiles.

"I know what your fucking problem is, Lester," Dan growled, releasing him. Phil immediately slid down to the floor, his jaw throbbing, his stomach lurching uncomfortably. "I know your type. Lonely, depressed little boys with nothing to do, trying to degrade others so they can feel better about themselves."

Phil's heart sank deep down into his stomach and his breathing increased. Something about what Dan had said made his heart clench painfully and he stared at Dan in disbelief.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Dan snapped at him, kicking his stomach one more time. Phil winced in pain, breathing heavily. "Does the depressed little boy want to die? Did you forget to take your pills?"

Phil just rolled his eyes, "Fuck off."

"Do you want me to give you a knife? Or a rope perhaps?" Dan smirked, "How about some poison?"

Phil's anger boiled over and he grabbed Dan's leg and pulled, hard, making Dan gasp and fall to the floor. "What the fuck do you think you're–" Dan snapped.

"Fuck you, asshole!" Phil growled and before Dan could get up, Phil climbed on top of him and punched him square in the face. Dan winced in pain and struggled against his grip, but Phil clenched his jaw and grabbed his hair, pulling harshly. Dan bit his hand and Phil cried out in pain, swinging his arms blindly. He heard a crack when his hand collided with Dan's jaw but now that he had already started, he couldn't stop. He was angry and frustrated, he needed to kick, punch, hurt.

They rolled on the floor and fought. They kicked, punched and hurt each other just like Phil wanted. They pulled each other's hair and bit each other, they even ripped each other's shirts off at some point but Phil couldn't even bring himself to care. He was warm and hot and sweaty, he was alive and he was feeling all kinds of things. Nothing else mattered and the world didn't exist.

But suddenly, he was being pulled away by two strong arms wrapped around his waist, their grip tight as they dragged him back.

"Stop it, Phil!" Someone said and Phil immediately recognized Chris's voice. He was panting hard and still buzzing with energy and the need to hurt. He struggled, kicked and scratched Chris, trying to get out of his grip. He could only see one thing and that was Dan. Dan was being pulled away by PJ and he was struggling too, panting and glaring at Phil like he wanted to kill him.

"Dan, will you please stop?" PJ snapped, "God, why do you have to fight all the time? Can't you guys at least try to be civil? I'm tired of breaking your fights all the time!"

"He started it!" Both of them yelled in unison.

"You fucking liar! It was you–"

"You're the one who was sucking cock in–"

"Guys, don't–"

"He called me a slut and–"

"–called me depressed–"

"–provoked me–"

"–kicked me in the stomach–"

"Guys..."

"–bringing my mom up, you fucking piece of absolute sh–"

"–not depressed, thank you very much."

"Guys, stop..."

"Why can't he leave me alone? Why–"

"–bastard. I can't believe he–"

"Can you guys please just–"

"–he fucking bit me like an animal–"

"–pulled my hair like a fucking girl–"

"–asshole! You pulled my hair first and I–"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Both of them stopped at once, staring at the new occupant of the room with wide eyes. Louise glared at the both of them, staring pointedly and giving them both knowing looks. Phil panted and glared at Dan. Dan was breathing hard as well and he glared right back.

Louise sighed, "Stop it and go home. You're both way too drunk to function properly."

Dan scowled, shoving PJ away, "Whatever. Tell him to stay away from me," he growled, glaring at Phil.

Phil clenched his jaw and opened his mouth to retort but stopped when Louise gave him a pointed glare. He huffed in resignation, tired due to all the fighting.

"Whatever," he mocked Dan's voice, making a face.

Dan glowered at him and turned around, shooting Phil one more warning glare over his shoulder before storming off in anger.

Phil watched him go quietly, embracing the sudden emptiness he felt. Chris and PJ sighed unitedly, looking at Phil tiredly. "Why can't you two try to be friends? Aren't you tired of fighting all the time?" PJ asked exasperatedly.C

Chris sighed, "Aren't you tired of repeating those words every time they fight, PJ? It's never going to happen. Pigs may fly one day, but they're never going to be friends."

PJ pursed his lips and sighed, "True."

Louise patted Phil's back, "You look tired. Go home for today. We'll talk later."

Phil rubbed his forehead tiredly and sighed, "Yeah."

"Do you want me to . . ." Louise winced, concern spreading over her delicate features as she gestured to his bruised face.  
Phil instantly tensed, "No. No, I'm fine."

Louise parted her lips and raised her hand to protest but Chris cut her off before she could even speak, "Do you want me to call a taxi for you? I really don't think you should drive in this state . . . or . . or I can, you know, take you back but I'm pretty sure you won't let me so what-"

"Yeah, a taxi would be great, thanks," Phil interjected.

"Alright, I'll go get my phone from the living room," Chris said, thumping Phil's shoulder and walking out of the room. PJ nodded at him, smiling sadly and following Chris out the door.

Louise stood still, giving him a small tight lipped smile. Phil felt awkward and snapped, "What?"

"Nothing," Louise sighed, lifting her fingers to brush her long hair back from her face, "You can accept help from others every once in a while. It's just . . . it's not that big of a deal, that's all."

Phil swallowed and stared with empty eyes as she turned cautiously and vanished out of the door. He felt oddly alone but he welcomed the loneliness quietly and walked over to the sink, washing his hands silently and looking up at the mirror. He cringed when he saw the damage. It was at least less than the last time and he sighed in relief.

Phil didn't want to go home yet, so he sat down on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. He dreaded going back to an empty house and a cold bed but there was no where else he could go. At least here, he wasn't completely alone. He could still hear the sound of music and laughter, he felt lonely but at least there was something to hear, some kind of sound.

Phil's flat was completely quiet, so quiet that no one would notice if someone suddenly died, no one would even care.

For some reason, his eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears and he squeezed it shut, wishing for something, anything to feel just a little... alive. The freedom Dan's presence gave him was ripped away from him. The emptiness came back with full force, crashing down on him like a gigantic wave, his eyes pricked with tears and his throat constricted. The world around him turned into this colourless, bleak hell with no escape route. The bland walls were caving in and the colourlessness was consuming him. He was getting submerged in this black and white ocean and he can never ever escape.

But somewhere in his heart, he still wished he could leave this colourless world behind and go somewhere, somewhere beautiful, somewhere really colourful.


End file.
